


Heathens

by Hayjake1



Category: Suicide Squad (2016), Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Fusion, Betrayal, Character Death, Codenames, Crazy Stiles, Crimes & Criminals, Cults, Dark Allison, Dark Stiles, Dubious Morality, Evil Plans, F/M, Flashbacks, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Insanity, Kidnapping, Murderers, Plot Twists, Prison, Psychological Trauma, Supervillains, Teamwork, Threats
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-14
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-08-08 16:11:41
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 10
Words: 17,703
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7764448
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Hayjake1/pseuds/Hayjake1
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU where the pack are criminals recruited/forced into a top secret government mission. Because there's no way that can go wrong.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Mission

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I do not own Teen Wolf or Suicide Squad.

Lydia flipped through her files nervously as the car pulled away from her lab, morning sun barely visible through the tinted windows. She didn’t know how long the ride would be, so she decided to occupy her time by running through the report she was supposed to give at the meeting. Eventually finding herself unable to focus in the tense atmosphere of the cramped SUV, she was soon forced to resort to simply sitting, attempting to ignore the steely gaze of the man next to her.

He, like the driver, was armed to the teeth: Kevlar, combat boots, sidearm, even a helmet. It all made her feel as though they were driving through Iraq, not California. Neither had spoken since she was picked up, and the whole situation made her uncomfortable. She was used to traveling with a security escort, but normally it would just be the regularly-dressed guard team from the lab whom she had grown to know and trust. For this meeting though, Argent insisted on sending his own team to pick her up, citing the confidentiality of the meeting’s location as the reason. Even she did not know where she was going. 

Any other day this sheer lack of control would stress her immensely, but today she was determined to be calm. She took a few deep breaths and closed her eyes in relaxation.

“We’ve got something up ahead.” The driver barked to her company in the backseat.

She heard the man shuffle as he pulled his sidearm, and didn’t even open her eyes to ask “What is -”

BOOM!

The world inside the car erupted into a sickening vortex as it rolled violently down what she could only assume was a rather large hill. Deafening crunches and bangs filled her head, her eyes snapped open just as the car came to a stop on its side. All she could feel was heat and the distinct smell of gasoline invaded her nose. Neither of the men were moving. Wasting no time, she began trying to pull herself up and out a broken window, but the motion was nearly impossible. Her vision was greatly blurred, and along with a dizzying sensation she distinctly felt blood rolling down her cheek. She continued trying to steady herself enough to climb out, only to fail once more. As she prepared her next attempt, a hand reached through the window, and without hesitation she latched on and allowed herself to be pulled from the wreckage.

She collapsed onto the man who had pulled her out, crying with relief. “Oh thank you! Thank…” She met his eyes and instant recognition filled her. She felt a pit opening in her stomach from sheer repulsion. “...you?”

* * *

 

“As I’m sure you already know, Dr. Lydia Martin was kidnapped from her escort vehicle in an ambush on route to our meeting last week.” Chris Argent began, receiving nods from all faces in the room. “Up until now we’ve had no leads on her location or her kidnapper. This morning however, we received a message from this man.” He flashed the face on the screen for all to see. “Peter Hale. Wanted for assault, fraud, tax evasion- you name it. Mr. Hale is the founder and leader of the Sons of the Pack, a quasi-religious cult tangled up in international smuggling. The message did not include any demands, just a manifesto proclaiming himself -” Argent adjusted his glasses to read the full quote from the paper he held, “- the Tamer of Death, Harbinger of Fire, True Alpha, Benefactor of Nature, the Great and Immortal God of Monsters.” This was met with chuckles from the majority of those in attendance, with even Chris cracking a smile. “I know this guy is a bit off his rocker but he is dangerous. Attached to the manifesto was this image.” 

The picture was projected on the screen, and silence feel upon the room. Lydia sat, dirty and beaten, wrists bound and clothes torn, with jagged cuts visible across her flesh. Chris removed the photo from the screen. 

“This obviously presents a problem. With Dr. Martin being the head of Project Hercules, we can only assume he grabbed her to get her to forfeit confidential information regarding the project’s research.”

Alan Deaton shifted in his seat, before asking “What does Hale want with information on Metahuman mutation?”

Argent answered. “The manifesto, which all of you will be provided copies of, specifically addresses that the strongest of humanity must be sacrificed to Hale as some form of ritual. He likely believes he can gain some form of power. As I’ve said, he’s obviously delusional but if he inadvertently lets that information get out to the public…”

All nodded in agreement. Adrian Harris followed up - “How was he able to ambush her? The meeting, the route, that was all confidential.”

Chris bit his lip in a very uncharastically sign of his wariness. “Well, as best we can figure either he somehow followed her from the lab, or… “

“Or he has a man on the inside.” Deaton finished, displeased with the news.

“We are investigating both scenarios.” Chris conceded. “Now we do have a plan in place for finding and retrieving Dr. Martin. We have access to Hale’s only relative. A nephew, Derek.”

“Where is he?” Harris asked.

“Blacksite Labyrinth.” Everyone cringed. The top secret metahuman prison was a topic best ignored. 

“If he’s in prison what makes you think he’ll rat out his uncle?”

Chris straightened up as he delivered his main proposal. “I believe he will talk… if we authorize Task Force X.” Groans and grumbles filled the room. Chris continued undeterred. “Hear me out! We have numerous candidates for the program who could be useful in this case, including Mr. Hale. We promise them some form of compensation, and I’m certain he’ll talk. We need them for this mission… in case we have to switch from Search and Rescue to Search and Destroy.” 

“I’m not following.” Deaton said, looking perplexed. 

Chris cleared his throat. “We don’t know what the risk or cost will be to get to Dr. Martin. The primary purpose of this mission is to prevent Peter Hale from getting access to her information. If a case arises where we would not be able to remove Dr. Martin from the premises… we would have to terminate her to prevent her from speaking. It would be best if that is not traced back to us.” 

Harris sat up in repulsion, “You’re talking about letting superpowered criminals run wild!”

A voice from the back spoke up “They wouldn’t be wild. They’d be under my supervision. And if any become a liability they can be terminated as well.” The room parted as a young brunette walked to the front of the room. 

Chris gestured to her. “My daughter, Allison. She would be operating as field commander for them. I can assure you she can control these people.”

Deaton addressed Allison calmly, “I think we would all like to know who these ‘candidates’ are before we approve anything.”

“Of course.” Allison pulled up the files, one by one on the big screen.

“Derek Hale, Peter’s nephew. Arrested for the murder of his girlfriend, Paige. He claims killing her granted him super strength. Whether that’s the cause is debateable but he is capable of lifting over a ton unaided.” She flipped onward.

“Kira Yukimura. Arrested for terrorism. She single-handedly knocked out the electric grid for San Diego in protest of mass media. I mean that literally, she did it with one hand. A hand that, like the rest of her, is capable of electrical manipulation.”

“Jackson Whittemore. Killed his parents and a large number of their friends. His body is capable of secreting a neurotoxin that paralyzes anyone on mere contact. Paralysis can last anywhere from an hour to a day depending on potency.”

“Malia Tate. Arrested for aggravated assault. She was born with razor sharp teeth and claws, and apparently quite the temper. She bit half a woman’s face off in an argument, it took 4 tranquilizers to pull her off the woman.”

“ ‘Stiles’ Stilinski. Arrested for terrorism. Suffered a mental break a few years back and mailed bombs all over his hometown, then walked into the hospital and started a full massacre. His power is still… uncertain but he seems to have some level of enhanced healing at the least. Dangerously unhinged.”

“And finally Scott McCall. Arrested for Burglary.Robbed dozens of businesses before he was caught. Turns out he has incredibly magnified senses. He would use his hearing to crack safes, vision to break in at night, etc. Also should be noted he is skilled at hand-to-hand combat, used to box before he was arrested. And I make seven. So that’s the team.”

Harris still shook his head in disbelief. “This is a group of… of monsters!”

Deaton muttered loud enough for all to hear. “Yes… but they may be the monsters we need.” He looked to Allison and Chris and gave a single nod.

“Well,” Chris said to his daughter. “Better go round up the team.”


	2. The Team

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison recruits the team members at the prison.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who left kudos/comments on chapter one! It really inspired me to crank out the new chapter ASAP. Hope you enjoy!

Blacksite Labyrinth was a large cement block masquerading as a building, with no windows, facades, or any discernable features beyond the hard walls and single door guarded by multiple operatives. Allison flashed her credentials and presented her list to the guards, who shared a glance before granting her entry and telling her the location of each inmate on the list.

The main cell block was a long, dimly lit hallway with cells lining both sides. Each cell was essentially a vault, a large metal door sealing each one, a large section of the door could fold away to reveal a window at the press of a button, and a small, sealed flap at the bottom was used to distribute meals. All other times it remained firmly sealed, airtight. Each cell had a small vent  to provide air, and the only furnishings were a hard bunk and a metal toilet. They were also soundproof, to further isolate the prisoners from any idea of an outside world. She reached the first cell on her list and had the window revealed to communicate.

“Mr. Hale, I’d like to talk to you about a very exclusive opportunity.”

A bulky figure rose from the bunk in the cell, and lumbered to the window. His open palm slammed onto the door as he leaned close, looking her in the eye. His voice was gruff and scratchy from lack of use. “What, are you selling timeshares?”

Allison remained unflinching at his attempts at irritation. “I would like you to assist us in locating your uncle and his followers. You were active in the Sons of the Pack until your arrest, we believe you can provide us a list of their possible strongholds.”

He sneered. “Why would I turn on Peter?”

“He told you to tie your girlfriend to a tree and stab her in order to get magic powers. He made you kill the woman you loved.” Allison answered.

Derek slammed his hand against the door once more. “And he was right! It was a necessary evil, I have the gift! Paige… would have understood. We were helping her too. Everyone will get the gift eventually, but she was too weak. It would have destroyed her. I spared her that pain.”

“And he would take care of it all after you were arrested? The funeral, the burial, all of that? Is that what he said?”

Derek nodded in response. “Pack sticks together.” He said with fierce pride.

“He lied to you. No one claimed Paige’s body, it was disposed of by the state after the  investigation. He didn’t spare a cent for her. Or you for that matter. Where’s the lawyer he promised you? Your girlfriend rots in the ground, you rot in here, and he has an entire army of new followers he can screw over. Does that sound like a pack that sticks together?”

He drew back from the window, his face betraying his attempt to hide his inner conflict and anger.

“I can offer you ten years off your sentence, an opportunity to spend time outside of this cell, and payback to your uncle if you’re willing to work with me. The government will even pay to erect a tombstone for Paige. I may even be able to arrange a visit to it for you.”

The large man sank back onto his bunk and hung his head. “Okay.” He whispered.

Allison smiled. _One down, five to go._

* * *

 

“Mr. Whittemore. I’m with the government, we’re willing to make a deal with you.”

The occupant of the cell raised an eyebrow. Allison noticed the damp handprints along the wall, and the clear viscous venom coating his hands. He drew closer. “Yeah?”

“We can offer ten years off your sentence, and an opportunity to go outside under my supervision in exchange for -”

“I’m in.” 

That took her by surprise. She had expected him to be one of the harder ones to convince. “We would need you to-”

“Don’t care, I said I’d do it.”

_ Well _ , she thought,  _ That was easy. Four more. _

* * *

 

Scott McCall's cell was on the far end of the hall. As the window was opened she was struck by how young the boy was. Rather, how young he looked; she knew from his file that he was nineteen, but she had expected the cold, scornful demeanor of the other inmates. Instead, he appeared sad and broken. He ran to the window once it was brought up and before she could speak, instantly accosted her.

“Please! They won’t let me out of my cell. I can’t hear anything in there, there’s nothing to look at, I think I’m going crazy!” The boy was practically shaking.

Allison was shocked. She hadn’t considered the impact of sensory deprivation on an individual with enhanced senses. The effect was not pretty. She tried, in vain, not to pity him. The opportunity this presented was not lost on her however. “I’m sorry to hear that. I can arrange a transfer to a cell with an exterior view, and even sometime spent outside of the building if you’re willing to help with some… community service.”

“Yes, please! I’ll help, I’d love to help!”

_ Excellent _ , Allison thought.  _ This is going to be too easy. _

* * *

 

Deep scratches marked the walls of Malia Tate’s cell. The pillow and sheet had been thrown off the bunk and bunch up into the corner on the floor. At first Allison believed the cell to be empty, until the wild woman sprung from where she was hiding beneath the bunk and pounced against the door. The feral inmate rose up and traced a long claw along the glass. Allison flinched. “What’s the matter?” Malia smiled from behind the glass, revealing large pointed canines. “I don’t bite.” 

“Even if I was inclined to believe you Ms. Tate, I’m not here to find out. I want to extend an offer. Help me take down some people and your sentence will be commuted.”

“I’m not interested.” She began to retreat back into her cell, hunching onto all fours and scrambling back.

“I think you will be once you know-”

“Just leave.” Malia called through the window.

Allison sighed, resorting to her last line of coercion. “We’re going after Peter Hale.”

Malia stopped in her tracks. 

“I believe your mother knew him-” Allison continued, but was cut off.

“He has to die.” Malia grunted through bared teeth.

Allison smiled. “Then I think you’re going to want to be in on this.”

_ Got her now, _  she thought.

* * *

 

Kira Yukimura was held in a basement cell isolated from the rest if the facility. Allison made her way down the stairs to another hallway, this one with only two doors. One was an insignificant storage closet, while the other was marked “GENERATOR ROOM: AUTHORIZED PERSONNEL ONLY.” Allison produced the key the guards had given her and entered.

The room held a large, whirling generator as well as several small back-ups along the walls, and in the center of the room stood a large room surrounded with glass walls, dotted with air holes. Inside the room sat a single chair with a woman strapped into it. Wires and electrodes ran up her arms and face, connecting her to the large machinery in the room. The room buzzed with electricity, and just by entering, Allison felt her hair stand from the static. 

Approaching the cell, she found herself forced to yell to be heard over the generator.

“Ms. Yukimura. I have an opportunity for you!”

Kira looked to her, unspeaking, but her eyes begged for help. Being a human battery could not be a pleasant experience. 

Allison continued. “If you come work for me, I can get you into a standard cell with no more forced energy output, and ten years off your sentence.”

The bound woman once more looked reluctantly to her. “Okay.” She choked. 

_ Just one more. _ She mentally prided herself.

* * *

 

She looked down at the note the guards had given her on all inmates locations, still puzzled by the last instruction

**Stilinski - XXX**

Pulling a guard to the said, she set out to get an answer. “Excuse me, where is inmate Stilinski kept?”

The guard fidgeted nervously, “Oh, him. He’s in, in uh… the psych ward.” 

“I wasn’t aware this facility had a psych ward.” Allison said, growing more confused.

“Well, he  **is** the psych ward. It’s just him. Fifth floor.” The guard pushed past her and walked away, leaving her to find her own way to the fifth floor. Like the basement, it was home to only the one inmate. Several room filled with dusty medical equipment filled the rest of the floor. Unlike the cells on the main floor, Stilinski’s cell was a long room with a shared glass wall between it and the main hall. Allison approached, feeling as though she had stepped into Silence of the Lambs.

Stiles was seated on his bunk, muttering something and moving his hands as though he was drawing a picture. As she approached, he looked up and spoke with a mildly amused voice. “What do you want?”

“I-”

“Shhhhh! Not you. Him.” Stiles said, pointed just behind Allison. She quickly turned only to find the space empty. “Made you look.” He said with a slight chuckle.

Growing annoyed, Allison cut to the chase. “I’ll let you out if you’re willing to work for me.” He perked up and clumsily approached the glass. “But,” Allison finished, “once our work is done, you will be returned here. Ten years will be taken from your sentence.”

“Big whoop, ten years. So I’ll get out of here in, what, like seventeen lifetimes?”

“That’s the offer. Take it or leave it.”

He knitted his eyebrows as if deep in thought. “Hmmm, work for you? Would I get to see people?”

“Yes.”

“Talk to people?”

“Yes.”

“Kill people?”

She grimaced. “Most likely, yes.”

He smiled and began to pace his cell. “Ohhh, very tempting. Can I bring my friends?”

“What friends?” She said bitterly. 

“The ones in here!” He tapped his temple violently. “They want out too.”

Deciding to humor him, she pretended to think about it. “I suppose so.” She finally announced. 

“Then you’ve got a deal! Can I get your name?” He smiled politely. I was hard to remember he had killed more than any other inmate of the facility.

“Absolutely not.” Allison said, turning to leave. “Someone will pick you up tomorrow. Then we can get started.”

“I’ll make you proud!” He called as she left, then returned to talking to himself.

_ This plan better work _ , she thought as she left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Note: Assume everyone is in their 20s or 30s for this fic (hence Allison's remarks on Scott's age).  
> Next chapter will show the team's first interactions with each other.  
> Thanks for reading!


	3. The Briefing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team is filled in on the context of their mission. First impressions are made.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I initially planned this chapter to be longer but have decided to split it into two separate chapters. The next section will hopefully be up soon. Hope you enjoy!

Scott paced his cell all morning, waiting for any sign that the agreement he had made was legitimate. He felt entirely numb, still having no sound coming through the door. No one had brought breakfast today, so he was further deprived of scent and taste. He ran his barefeet across the cold, hard floor, focusing on every little divet and crack to keep in touch with the reality of the cell. Finally, the flap in the door slipped down, revealing the window. Two guards stood on the other side of the threshold, the sound of their voices resonating in his ears with great force was practically euphoric to him. 

“Face against the wall and place your hands above your head. Prepare for transport.”

He complied and soon heard the heavy door pull open behind him. Smiling at the draft that entered the cell carrying a new wave of scents and sounds, he felt the cold steel of handcuffs scratching into his wrists. The guard leaned closer, tightening the cuffs and granting Scott a whiff of his aftershave, before suddenly jabbing a syringe into his neck and pressing down the plunger. “Wait! Wha-” Scott cried in alarm as he felt darkness engulf him, his eyelids falling down and pulling him into the darkness of unconsciousness.

* * *

 

When he awoke, it was not in a slow reacquaintance with awareness, but with a quick thrust back into the world. New scents and the thrum of heartbeats overwhelmed him. He opened his eyes to find himself in the back of a transport van, his wrists and ankles shackled. On the bench across from him sat two fellow inmates: A large, unconscious man whose wrists were bound in a much firmer pair of handcuff that appeared to be made of cement, and a slim Asian woman whose entire arms were wrapped in tight rubber sleeves and gloves, all in a quite restrictive manner. She was awake and, as he realized, staring at him.

“Do you know where we’re going?’ She asked, voice calm but eyes shifty. 

“No,” he shook his head. “Did you sign up for the service opportunity too?” 

She gave an uncertain nod. Suddenly, the vehicle came to a stop, jerking them in their seats; the large man began to stir slightly. Scott heard footsteps approaching the rear doors of the van, and in a flurry of action the doors were thrown open and all three occupants were grabbed by armed men and pulled out of the van and into a large woodland clearing. A second van sat on the other end of the meadow, with three occupants being pulled from it as well. He examined the other inmate group. It consisted of a man with similar gloves to the Asian woman fixed onto his wrists, a woman with her hands bound behind her back and a large muzzle hiding most of her face, and a scrawny man in a straitjacket. The armed men (soldiers, Scott assumed) dragged the still drowsy inmates into the center of the clearing, all sitting in a line along the ground. 

The woman who had visited the other day emerged from the huddle of soldiers surrounding them, now dressed in full tactical gear. She stood in front, looking down on all of them, before speaking loudly with clear authority.

“Glad to see you’re all awake. As you know, you have all agreed to co-operate with this project in exchange for commuted sentences. I’m sure you’re wondering what the details of this project are. Well, here is what you need to know. A terrorist organization has taken custody of a very valuable individual. We need to retrieve this individual. You are here solely because you possess the skills and information needed to infiltrate this organization, and the moral depravity to do it without reservation and without asking questions.”

She scanned over the six criminals before continuing. “There are two rules you will be expected to follow while you are operating on our behalf. Number one, you do not attempt escape. You have all been injected with a tracker, we will know your whereabouts at all times. You will make no attempt to flee. Number two, you listen to me. You will not disobey any order I give you, and you will in no way attempt to harm me, the objective of this mission, or any of these fine men. Those are your rules. Any other rules, laws, guidelines, or requirements you may think of… consider them non-applicable.”

The inmates’ eyes all got big. The gloved man smiled. The one in the straight jacket made an awkward shrugging motion as if he was trying to raise his hand. “Does that mean we can maim, torture, and kill the guys who took your person?” He said with sincerity and a twinge of hopefulness.

The woman bit her lip in frustration. “Any target deemed an impediment to the mission is expendable.” She explained. The straitjacket man let out a slight cheer.

“I should mention that if any of disobey my rules,” She continued frigidly. “You will be killed on sight.”

“What!” Scott yelled. Concerned murmurs moved through the inmates. Allison gave a wicked smile.

“Well, ladies and gentleman… Welcome to the suicide squad.” 

The soldiers moved closer, causing all of the criminals to flinch and pull back. To their surprise, they released them from their shackles. They kept the muzzle on the one woman, Scott assumed to keep her quiet. Two heavy crates were carried into the clearing by the men, and set down before them. 

Allison placed her hand on the crate, patting it. “We will be providing you with tools necessary to the mission. You will also each receive a earpiece to enable communication in the field. It is  **not** a toy.” She stared at the straitjacket man, who shrunk down in disappointment. “To enable easy communication and maintain the confidentially of your involvement in this project, you will also each be addressed by a codename. You may address me, as Artemis and only Artemis.”  

The large man snickered slightly, catching the furious gaze of ‘Artemis’. “You are henceforth to only use your code names when using the earpiece. Sooooo…” She began going down the line.

She began with Scott “You are codename: Argus”

Next, the Asian woman. “Codename: Zeus.”

The muscular man. “Codename: Atlas.” 

The cocky man. “Codename: Medusa.” 

The muzzled woman, who was pulling on her muzzle attempting to break the lock. “Codename: Lyceon.” 

Finally reaching the deranged man on the end. “Codename: Cadmus.”

He began to wave his hands in protest. “No, no, no. That’s so lame! How about like Codename: Slaughter or Codename: Slayer?”

She just shook her head annoyed and walked off back to the large crates. “Our rescue target is to be referred to by the codename Siren. These names must be used for any non face-to-face communication. I’ll let you all get acquainted. Help yourselves. You have the day to get your gear and train.” She unlocked both the crates and smiled. “Oh, and someone take that thing off Tate. She was very good for our little meeting.”

Two guards reluctantly came forward and unlocked the restraint. Malia moved her jaw with a loud pop before smiling menacingly. Her lip pulled back to show numerous overgrown, pointed teeth. Scott and Kira both gasped.

“Oh my god!” Stiles practically shouted. Malia turned to him, displaying her teeth threateningly. “You are gorgeous!” He continued. “Are you single?” She rolled her eyes and growled in response, before setting off to examine the crate. Jackson and Stiles both followed behind her. “Oh, all kinds of goodies!” Stiles shouted, pulling a heavy steel bat from the crate and swinging it playfully.

“They should have given him the muzzle.” Derek muttered under his breath. Kira laughed slightly, though like Scott she still looked far more uncomfortable than the others. 

Allison walked straight into the middle of their little huddle to pick through the crate herself. Finding a pistol, she pulled it out slowly and began to examine it carefully. 

“It’s called a gun, sweetheart.” Jackson mocked. “You point it and shoot.”

Giving him a slight smile, Allison turned and without hesitation fired six shots at a distant tree. The wood splintered to reveal a perfectly circular shooting pattern. “I think I got it, thanks. Sweetheart.” She tucked the gun into her waistband, pulling a large crossbow from the crate and slinging it over her shoulder. “Hale!” She called. “Come with me, we need to talk.”

Malia instantly dropped the boots she had pulled from the crate and turned to see Allison and Derek talking on the outskirts of the clearing. “Hale?” She whispered, before flying into a complete rage. She ran full speed towards them, dropping low to the ground and thrusting herself forward. As she drew close, she raised a clawed hand to strike and lept into the air. 

Before she could make contact with Derek, Allison had drawn an electric prod and moved into position so that Malia landed straight onto the prod. She fell to the ground twitching and growling. “Kill… Hale..” She grunted.

“Not this one, Tate.” Allison said, leaning down to talk to the collapsed girl. “Now get up and go train.” She said, picking up and throwing the incapacitated girl into the meadow. 

“I think I’m in love.” Stiles said wistfully, having witnessed the entire display with rabid enthusiasm.

* * *

 

Scott had poked through the crate halfheartedly, always keeping one eye on Allison. She talked with Derek for almost an hour, walking the perimeter with him. Once they had finished, she waved him away and began typing some sort of notes into her fancy phone. Derek came over to the crate frowning and grumbling just as Scott slipped away and made his way to Allison. “Um, excuse me. Artemis?” 

She looked up and stared at him expectantly, silently urging him to go on and be quick.

“Look,” he started. “I don’t know if I can do this. I - I don’t want to hurt anyone.” The idea of being put into a situation that ended with either his death or the death of another at his hands had made him queasy the entire time she had been talking, and seeing the other criminals be so cold had only served to frighten him.

Allison just seemed annoyed. “So you’re okay with committing crimes for yourself, just not for a cause?”

“What cause? You said this would be a community service opportunity!” 

“It is. You’re serving your community by taking out some very nasty people and maintaining the security of valuable information. Or you can serve it by dying in the process and saving the state the costs of your incarceration. You want a cause? Your cause is do what I say and be useful for once. You don’t have the choice to back out now.”

“I’ve never hurt anyone, I don’t want to -”

“Right. You just stole their valuables, violated their sense of security, and ruined their businesses. You’re a criminal McCall, you don’t get to play the saint.”

“I don’t want to kill anyone!”

A small voice behind them spoke up. “Me either.” They both turned to see Kira standing there. Scott cursed himself for getting too distracted to notice he had been followed. “I don’t like hurting people.” She said softly.

“So that’s what you’re little ‘demonstration’ was about? Not hurting people? The one that cut power to hospitals, traffic signals, safety equipment.”

“I didn’t want- That wasn’t… She didn’t tell me that…”

Allison took a step closer to the two of them. “Let me be perfectly clear. You have no choice. You have no free will here. This is what is necessary. You two are nothing but tools to carry out a much bigger plan. You will obey me and you will aid this mission… McCall, your mother still lives in Beacon Hills right? Evergreen St? A two story colonial house, blue with white frames?”

“How … What did you-”

“Nothing. Just letting you know what we know. And Yukimura, that chair is still sitting in the basement. Maybe we’ll crank it up to eleven.” 

Kira got very quiet and looked at her feet.

“Remember this, you two. I can be your worst nightmare or your best friend.” She began to walk away, leaving the two of them behind, awestruck.

“How can you be like this?” Scott pleaded from behind her.

“Someone has to.” She answered. “We start the operation tomorrow. Get prepped and speak with your teammates. You all are gonna be real close.” 

Scott and Kira both looked back at the criminals occupying themselves with the weapons and tools of the crate. They both shared a mournful glance before walking over to join them. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and reviewed so far! Let me know what you think, and be on the lookout for Chapter 4.


	4. The Training

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The crew get better acquainted while grabbing supplies for the mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, Thanks to everyone who has supported this so far, you all rock! Hope you enjoy!

The sun sat high above them as Stiles, Jackson, and Derek finished picking through the dregs of the second crate. They had introduced themselves begrudgingly to each other while searching for anything of use. In the end, Derek had found an entire makeshift outfit and some brass knuckles; Stiles just clinged to his bat.

“You’re seriously just gonna take a bat?” Jackson questioned as he examined a pair of mirrored shades that had found their way into the bin.

“Yup. Nothing better. Well, except a well placed pipe bomb but that’s just not practical here. Besides, I don’t see you with any great weaponry pretty-boy.”

Jackson lifted his shirt slightly to reveal several blades of different sizes tucked into his waistband. Stiles winced slightly.

“That can not be comfortable. I mean how… But what if- Nevermind.” He ultimately just shook his head, before looking out across the clearing. “So what do you think is their deal?” He said pointing to where Scott and Kira had settled. 

“I heard the soldiers saying they used to keep that chick in the basement. And the kid went to the commander, that Artemis woman, and asked to be excused because he didn’t want to hurt anyone. Can you believe that? Freaking holier-than-thou punk.” Jackson stared with contempt as he spoke. 

Stiles nodded. “I’d believe it. He has those innocent puppy eyes.”

Jackson eventually turned away. “Forget about them. I want to know about you, Derek.” He said, drawing attention to the quieter man.

“Like what?” Derek responded challengingly. 

“Like why did G.I. Jane over there want to talk to you alone, and why did fangface go crazy on you. You do something to her?”

“Do _ you _ know if she’s single?” Stiles interjected. Jackson shot him a glare. “What! Someone’s gotta have an answer” He defended.

Derek shot a look to the far edge of the field, where Malia appeared to be shredding a practice dummy while Allison watched. “I don’t even know her… She could know my uncle though.” Stiles and Jackson stared blankly. “That’s why ‘Artemis’ wanted to talk. The guy who took the scientist they’re all worried about… is my uncle. She wanted to know his base closest to where she was taken.”

“And why did your uncle kidnap a top secret scientist?” Jackson asked.

“I don’t know…” Derek admitted. “But I’m here to find out. It could be that she is one of the chosen.” Blank stares awaited him once more. He entered deep into thought, nearly entranced, and continued speaking, but more to himself than to them. “We all must be chosen to be here… and if she is chosen, then he could be trying to free her of humanity’s restraints. Chase her to the ends of the earth, for those who are chased learn to run with the pack. An ultimate sacrifice. Sacrifice brings pain. Pain brings blood. Wash the roots in blood. Wash the roots… Oh, God. Paige.” He froze up and fell into silence.

Jackson and Stiles shared a glance. “Talk about crazy.” Stiles whispered. “Anyway, I’m gonna introduce myself to puppy-eyes and basement girl.” He bounced off in their direction humming, still carrying his bat..

Watching him go and seeing Derek go pale as a sheet, Jackson just hung his head. “I’m surrounded by freaks.”

* * *

 

“So wait, you were-... Oh man, the crazy one is coming over!” Scott told Kira, realizing they were about to be interrupted.

“What!”

“He’s got a bat, just act casual. Don’t say anything to upset him.” Scott quickly pretended they were still engaged in their conversation as the newcomer strolled up.

“Hello, hello! We have not been introduced. I am Inmate #49217. Stilinski. You may call me ‘creep’, ‘psycho’, ‘freak’ or anything else that comes to mind. I prefer Stiles though.” He bowed as one would on completion of their greatest performance. 

“Uh, hi. I’m Scott.” He forced a polite smile.

“Kira.” She said, awkwardly rubbing her arm. Stiles smiled at them both, and an odd silence came upon them. It left Kira wishing anything would fill it, and she soon found herself blurting out “So what are you in for?” 

Everything went completely still for a moment as they all froze up. Scott stared daggers at her for bringing up such a topic. Stiles quickly bounced back into focus and with the calm, organized demeanor of one reading a resume, provided his response. “Oh. Well, have you ever seen that movie about the psychologist who kills and eats people and torments that FBI agent?”

Scott shook his head in the positive just as Kira did in the negative. Both however had slowly begun to back away.

“Well… I sold a lot of pirated copies of it. FBI finally caught on.” Kira and Scott both looked at him cautiously, and when they saw that he was still deadly serious, they could not help but laugh. He seemed surprised at their reaction. “You shouldn’t laugh. You know piracy is not a victimless crime. And okay, so if I’m being honest, it was really less piracy and more that I blew up a hospital. And a school. And a police station.” 

They all stopped laughing. “Are- Are you serious?” Scott asked with repulsion.

“Oh yes, absolutely.” Stiles said with a polite nod. “Serious as a heart attack, buddy!” He said, slapping Scott on the back. The younger man flinched away at the touch. Stiles shifted his gaze to Kira. “What about you, beautiful? What’d you do?”

“I- I just got caught up in a bad situation.” She hung her head, which elicited a surprising sympathetic glance from Stiles, who then turned to Scott. “And you?”

Scott rocked on his feet. “Just… Made some bad choices, man.” An awkward silence fell over the three of them, until Stiles clicked his tongue and snapped back into an excited fervor.

“Hey, I grabbed some extra stuff from the goodie crate. You guys want anything?”

“No, no! We’re fine.” Scott hastily refused the offer, but Stiles refused to listen to the younger man. 

“Oh, I insist!” He ran over to the large pile he had formed earlier, and before Scott and Kira could bolt, ran back to them. “After all, we’re a team now. One in the same.” He grinned deviously. Kira felt actual chills at his words. She was determined to never become like the psychopath before her. Yet, she still found herself pointing to what longed like a long, sheathed sword in his weapons stash. 

“Do you mind if I take that? I think I could use it.” 

Stiles nodded, and then turned back to Scott, who was feeling entirely betrayed by Kira’s willingness to wield such a lethal weapon. He was snapped back into focus by Stiles pushing some wire thing into his hands. “Picked this out just for you, Scotty! Do you know how to use a garotte?”

“Uh, no. I actually don’t.” 

“Hm.” Stiles frowned in disappointment. “Well let me show you!”

“I’m sure I’ll figure it out! So, uh no need for a demonstration!” He responded, backing away.

Kira returned to the group carrying the sheathed blade. Standing to the side, she pulled it out and began practicing. To everyone’s astonishment, the sword flew through the air with grace and incredible speed. Once she slowed down and drew the weapon at her side, it became clear that a current of pure, humming electricity was running straight from her grip through the blade. She swung it again, launching a whiplike tendon of lightning from the tip of the blade, striking a nearby tree in a shower of sparks. The other convicts all came nearer to witness the display, with Stiles whooping and cheering the whole time. “I think this is the beginning of a beautiful friendship.” He proudly said to an astonished Scott as Kira walked back to join the two of them, slightly embarrassed at the attention her display had gathered. 

While Jackson and Stiles continually congratulated Kira for her performance, Allison pushed her way back to the center of the clearing. With a shrill whistle, she drew all attention back to herself. 

“Alright everybody. Grab your stuff, because we are heading out!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Be on the lookout for the next chapter. Thanks again!


	5. The Recon

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team gets to work locating Lydia, but some of the team have motives of their own.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has read and commented so far. I tried to make sure I went through and responded to all of you. Hope you enjoy!

Allison was supervising the team as they were loaded into the transport vans when she received a call from her father requesting a mission status update.

“Hale’s cooperating. So far all the others appear on board. Had to incapacitate Tate briefly but I think she learned her lesson. Heading out for initial reconnaissance of the base I mentioned in my report now.”

“Good work. We haven’t received any new intel on the target but we believe that to be the most likely location where she would be kept.”

“We should be in position in just a few hours. Oh, and while I have you, I noticed what looked like some pages missing in the personnel files you provided. I requesting the missing sheets but I was denied access. That can’t be right, can it? I should have clearance for all info relating to the team.”

There was a slight hesitation before he responded. “Yeah, I don’t know how that could happen. I’ll look into it, just be patient. If that’s all, then-”

“Oh, actually I was wondering if there's been any news regarding the ambush? Has the leak been identified?”

Chris’s tone quickly became more agitated. “You don’t need to concern yourself with that. Just focus on your mission, soldier!

“Yes, da- I mean, Yes, sir!”

He hung up, leaving Allison to sigh in resignation before stepping into the van. All team members were accounted for, all strapped into their seats along two rows in the back. She took her place at the end of the row, next to Derek and directly across from Scott. The latter stared at her before leaning forward and dropping his voice to a whisper. “Is there a leak on the team?”

Her face flushed with anger as she hissed through clenched teeth. “Were you listening in on my phone call?”

“Can’t help it. Special hearing.” He said with a sheepish grin.

Allison pinched the bridge of her nose. “Well try not to ‘special-hear’ my conversations. And no, if you must know, that was not about this team.”

Derek spoke up from beside her, apparently having been listening to their discussion. “If you have a leak, you should be careful. It’s always the people close to you. Usually family.”

“And how would you know that?” She asked.

“Well, I am the one leaking all of Peter’s secrets.” He said smugly. 

“I’m sorry he doesn’t give you more credit. I know it must be hard. He should be more supportive of you.” Scott said, surprisingly genuine.

Allison refused to counter and simply sank back, focusing all her energy on denying what was seeming more and more likely. The rest of the ride was spent in uncomfortable silence, occasionally interrupted by Stiles humming some song from the eighties. For the most part though, everyone remained quiet, mentally preparing themselves for whatever task was to come.

It was well into the night when they arrived at the drop location: a parking garage on the outskirts of the city. An office building sat across the street, next to a sleazy motel. Before opening the doors, Allison stood to deliver her final instructions.

“Okay, guys. We have reason to believe the target is in the office building across the street  -”

“Wait,” Jackson interrupted. “The cult is operating out of an office building?”

“It is  **not** a cult.” Derek asserted. “They just have the wrong guy in charge. And this is strictly for Peter’s business ventures. Fraud, smuggling, trafficking. Everyone in that building is probably armed.”

“Right.” Allison said, taking back control of the conversation. “Now we don’t know where in the building Peter will be keeping our target, but we don’t have time to blindly rush in and look for her.” She pointed to Scott. “That’s where you come in.”

Grabbing a box from under her seat, Allison produced a small picture and a coat. “This is a picture of Dr. Martin, and this is her lab coat And this…” She paused while drawing her cell phone and dialing a number. 

An answering chimed on. “Hi, you’ve reached Lydia! Leave a message and…” Allison snapped off the call.

“... is her voice. You, me, and Derek will be taking point in that motel. You should be close enough to use her scent or voice to place her in the building. We need to know what floor they’re keeping her on, if she is still in the building.” He threw the coat to Scott, who sniffed its sleeve.

“Go get her. Go get her boy!” Jackson teased, angering Scott. Allison quickly cut back in to reassert control. 

“The rest of you will walk the perimeter of the building to get a sense of the best exit strategy. Do not enter the building, and do not engage anyone entering or leaving. Stay hidden. Remember, this is just reconnaissance. That means no weapons visible, keep a low profile, and just look normal!”

Jackson shot Malia a glance. “That may be hard for Fangs here.” 

“Whittemore, if you don’t shut up I will personally terminate your work contract and you.” Allison said firmly. “We meet back here in an hour. Remember the rules. Remember the consequences. Yukimura, watch those three. Earpieces in everyone. From now on, codenames only. Let’s go!” She pushed open the door, and all filed out. Grabbing hold of Scott and Derek, she began a casual, but hasty walk to the motel. The streets were empty, but she was wary of looking too suspicious anyway.

They entered the motel without a problem, Allison sliding the cashier a large sum of cash in exchange for both a room and his discretion. They entered their room and all three of them huddled up against the window looking out onto the office building. Scott leaned close to the glass.

“You gotten anything?” Allison asked.

“I can’t smell anything over there, this nasty room is too overpowering.” He said, practically choking on the odor coming from the sheets. “Play her phone message again.”

Allison brought up the phone and dialled once again. “Did you hear her voice?”

Scott listened intently to the message this time, pressing his ear to the phone. There, ever so subtle beneath the sound of her voice and the slight static that came with all recordings, he could hear a slight thumping. “Not her voice, no. Her heartbeat.”

Derek leaned back, amazed. “Through the phone!?”

Allison stayed focused. “Can that help you find her?”

Scott nodded. “It's all about finding the right rhythm.” His finger tapped the glass in a recurring pattern, mimicking the sound.

“That doesn’t make sense.” Allison moaned. “She could be panicked, and its going faster. Or if she’s unconscious, then.”

“Just let the kid work!” Derek yelled.

“Shhhhh!” Scott hushed them. “Theres still always just something… unique. Wait… I think I got her. Top floor, left side back corner.”

“There’s a huge storage room there, it’s just down the hall from Peter’s office.” Derek offered in aid.

“Great!” Allison cheered. “Atlas, draw up a full schematic of what you remember on that floor.” She was met with blank stares. “Atlas… Come on, guys! Codenames!”

“Oh right!” Derek offered, taking paper from the desk and beginning a sketch. “Man, that was incredible. what else can you hear?”

Scott stood tall, now somewhat proud. “Well, there are bedbugs on the mattress two rooms down, that woman on the street corner down there has a tapeworm, and the others are entering the back alley. They’re talking about chinchillas.”

“Oh, lord.” Allison grumbled.

* * *

 

“I’m just saying with the coats and sweaters and whatnot, you’d think they’d make like a chinchilla fur phone case.” Stiles shrugged, bored without his bat.

“And I’m just saying no one would buy it!” Jackson added, getting very heated.  “You agree, right Hong Kong?”

“I’m Japanese, asshole.” Kira fumed. Being put with these three had her severely annoyed.

“Whatever, you agree though, right?”

“Who cares? The last thing people need is more materialistic garbage to decorate their phones with. But I suppose there are enough slaves to consumerism that someone would buy it.”

“I’ll count that for me.” Stiles graciously boasted.

“Thanks a lot, Ms. Marx!” Jackson lamented. 

“All of you shut up!” Malia growled. They all cringed as static suddenly filled their ears when the earpieces came to life.

“Artemis to Zeus. Come in Zeus.”

Kira pressed her finger to the device. “This is Zeus.”

“What are you guys doing, have you found an exit point yet?”

“Actually we just -”

Kira was cut off as Malia pressed her speaker button. “This is Malia. We found a fire exit just now so keep your pants on. When do we get to go after Hale.”

“I’m sorry, I’m not quite familiar with that name, can you re-identify yourself.” Allison said in a huff.

“I’m not using any stupid codename. Now quit with the tough girl routine.” 

Allison began a stream of very violent statements, but Malia took off her earpiece and threw it too the ground. Jackson followed suit.

“Man, she was giving me a headache.” He said.

Stiles clipped his out as well. “Yeah, of all the voices in my head, she is definitely my least favorite. Well second least. Still better than Caitlin…” They all chose to ignore him as he continued to ramble.

Kira was uncomfortable at the whole situation. “Guys, I think we’re supposed to keep those in.” She said timidly. No one seemed to notice however, each carrying on their own conversations: Malia and Jackson with each other, Stiles with himself.

Jackson leaned closer to the feral girl. “Look, you seem to be the only other one here who remembers we’re prisoners. I’m planning to bolt first chance I get. You in or out?”

She spared a glance to Kira, who was pacing in what appeared to be some strange mix of fear and confusion. “And get away from hall monitor? Absolutely.” She smiled with her menacing mouth.

“Excuse me!” A voice called out to them. A man was walking down the alley towards them. As he approached, his hat made it clear that he was a cop. Malia turned away, hiding her face in the shadows. Kira and Jackson stood frozen, while Stiles still played around in his mind. “May I ask what you four are doing here?”

“No crime against standing around is there?” Jackson asked rhetorically.

“There is actually, its called loitering.” The cop said frowning.

Stiles took this moment to snap back to reality, approaching the cop with a smile. “Sorry about my friend. He’s just tired. We all are actually, maybe you can help us. We’re looking for the convention center. My coworkers and I are in town for a trade show and we just got so exhausted checking out the city that we ducked in here to cool off and rest a little. I hope we aren’t trespassing?” Kira and Jackson shared a glance, amazing at the sudden appearance of sanity their teammate had.

The cop smiled at the politeness Stiles had shown him. “Nah, you guys are okay. Just making sure you weren’t stumbling around drunk or nothing. So tradeshow huh? What line of work are you in?”

Stiles walked closer to the cop. “Funny you should ask actually…” With remarkable speed, he drew a knife from his sleeve and slashed straight through the officer’s throat. “Butchery.” He cackled in the man’s face, drawing back the knife and sinking it into his chest. The officer fell lifeless to the ground before them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know what you think! Gonna try to get the next chapter out soon! Thanks again!


	6. The Mutiny

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The team begins to fall appart while Allison struggle for control.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who has offered support.Hope you enjoy!

Kira froze in instant terror. “You- you killed him!” She choked out. “I- I have to tell Ar- I… I need to go!” She instantly ran from the alley, shaking tremendously, leaving the others to stand over the body. 

“Now’s our chance!” Jackson said to Malia. “We can slip away, find a way to deactivate the tracker, and make a run for it.” 

Malia rubbed her arm, as though hesitating, but in reality she had just located the slight bump of the tracker insert. Without even flinching, she dug her claws into the flesh of her upper arm and fished out the device. “One tracker down. Now i’ll do you.”

Jackson backed away slightly. “I think it would be better to just wait. There's gotta be a way to just keep it from transmitting.”

“Oh no, I am not getting caught because you were too much of a coward to ditch the tracker.” She pounced on him, soon digging the device from his arm as well, despite his pained cries. 

“Ah, damn that hurt!” 

“Quiet!” She ordered. “What about nutcase over there? You think he’ll get in the way?” She gestured to Stiles, who was quite unceremoniously dragging the cop’s body to the nearby dumpster.

“Leave him to me.” Jackson whispered. Then, calling out to the other man, he asked: “Hey, Stiles, need a hand?” The other man only nodded as he struggled to lift the corpse into the trash by himself. Jackson lifted it’s legs, and together they tossed the body in. “Alright man, high-five!” He cheered enthusiastically.

Stiles smiled. “Alright, teamwork!” and clapped hands with his helper. Pulling away from the high five, Stiles saw a clear venom coating his hand, and began to lose the feeling in his arm. “Uh, I’m no dermatologist, but you may have a problem.” Within seconds, his legs gave out, leaving him paralyzed on the ground.

Jackson leered down at him and laughed, before running from the alley. Malia looked at the fallen Stiles, who delivered a rather melodramatic goodbye.

“Go on, beautiful. Be free. Never forget me! I only wish we could have had a deeper connection.”

She simply rolled her eyes. “Please, you couldn’t handle me.” With that, she ran off after Jackson, who was now heading back towards the parking garage.  She caught up as he stopped near the entrance. “What now, genius.” She asked cynically.

“Keep watch, I’m gonna hot-wire us a car. Then we’re home free.” He slipped off to grab a ride, leaving her as sentry.

* * *

 

Allison, Scott, and Derek were leaving the motel in a haste as Allison tried to radio the others, with no success. “You’re certain it was them, Argus?” She asked.

“I heard someone scream, it sounded like Kira - I mean, like Zeus.”

Derek piped up from behind. “Can we drop the stupid codenames now. It’s just making this that much more confusing.”

“Do not question me!” Allison asserted. Suddenly, Kira came barreling towards them. “What are you doing away from your team?” Allison demanded.

Kira was clearly out of breath and on edge as she desperately tried to remain composed. “They all ditched their radios, and a policeman showed up, and you said not to get caught, so we were… I mean, Stiles - or ummm… crap I don’t remember his codename. But he was distracting him and I thought he was about to leave but then, then he killed him!” 

“What!” Scott blurted.

“Did anyone see?” Derek asked, remaining rational. 

Allison slowly encroached on the other woman. “Let me get this straight… I leave you in charge of a team of violent, psychotic, enhanced criminals with the simple task of finding an exit, and a civilian is killed,  **by your team** , in plain view of anyone who happens to be walking by, and instead of radioing me or incapacitating your rogue teammates, you decide to run away, leaving the body where it can be seen, **by anyone** , and leaving. Your. Team. Unchaperoned!” She exploded into pure rage. 

“I’m sorry, I -”

“Sorry does not fix this! Now move! You better hope you have not completely ruined this mission.” She pushed forward, all of them running to the alleyway. Upon arriving there, they were greeting by the sight of Stiles laying alone in the center of the dark corridor. “Where are the others?” Allison asked.

“I saw the whole thing!” Stiles chirped. “She ran off, and then Jackson jumped poor unsuspecting me, leaving me stuck down here. Then he and Malia ran off together under the moonlight to start a new life together. Oh, and they also killed the guy in the the dumpster.” 

“Nice try, but she already ratted you out on that one.” Allison growled as Derek lifted the paralyzed man and threw him over his shoulder. Blood covered Stiles’ clothes and the entire ground of the alleyway. Two small transmitters swam in the blood. “Damn, they removed the trackers!” 

“Oh, I know where they went! They went that-a-way!” Stiles said as his hand slightly twitched. “Am I pointing? I’m trying to point towards the parking, that’s where they went.” 

“Come on, maybe we can catch them.” Allison turned and ran off, the rest following.

“So, does this mean everyone is just cool with the dead guy? Because that works for me!” Stiles said as Derek carried him.

“No!” Scott said, his initial fear of the madman replaced with moral outrage. “I’m not cool with it! How can you just do that!”

Stiles tried to shrug his paralyzed shoulders. “Hey, my bad. I don’t like cops, so I kinda panicked. It will not happen again. I absolutely, fully, completely, swear it on dead cop guy’s grave. And you can trust that. See, I can’t even cross my fingers.”

“But you were trying to cross them!” Scott huffed.

“Yeah, guilty there. I’m not big on ‘promises’. Or ‘honesty.’ Or ‘not killing people because it is wrong’. Just not my style.”

Kira stopped dead in her tracks. “Oh my God, the knife! He still has the knife!” Derek stopped running too and began to pat down Stiles, searching for any weapons.

“Hey, easy big guy! I’m flattered but this is moving a little fast.” Stiles joked as he was searched.

“Got it!” Derek called as he drew the knife from a sleeve. Allison was too far ahead to have heard this exchange however, and sensing an opportunity, Derek slid the knife into his own pocket.

The roar of an engine drifted into their ears, and the formerly empty street was taken over by a sleek, silver Porsche they rolled out from the parking garage. Before any of them could react, it flew past them, offering them only a quick glance at Jackson driving and Malia sitting shotgun.

Allison drew her gun and focused on the car as though she were shooting skeet, tracing its path. The car proved to be moving too fast however. “Damnit!” She yelled, holstering the weapon. “Yukimura, you can strike them from here, take them out!”

“What! No!”

“This is your mess, now take that car out! That is an order!” 

The Asian woman remained uncooperative.

“You said you didn’t want anyone to get hurt right?” Allison said, speaking softer now. “Well, those two are going to hurt a lot of people.”

Kira stared her down defiantly. “So will you.”

Allison’s face registered shock for a minute, before returning to its mechanical rationality. “Fine.” She said. She once more drew her gun, cocking it. With incredible speed, she grabbed Scott, pressing the barrel to his head. “Take them out, or I’ll hurt him.” 

Scott was caught between terror and shock. “You can’t…”

“She’s bluffing, Kira.” Derek added. “We’re in the middle of a public street, she won’t shoot anyone.”

“This is all that I’ve ever been taught, Kira. I will do this.” Allison said slowly. “Now, they’re getting away, take them out!” 

Kira turned in resignation and saw the car speeding away. She stretched her hand out and the streetlights all up the road exploded into sparks. From the two closest to the car, a large arc of electricity appeared and lashed at the car. As soon as it was struck, it rolled onto its side, the incredible speed it had been traveling now working against it. As it fell back onto its right side, the car exploded into flames. Soon, it was just a flame on the horizon, like a distant candle.

Allison holstered her gun and released her grip on Scott. “Alright. Now let’s move.” The rest of the team all just sat in shock, as even Stiles fell silent.   


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how soon I'll be able to get chapter 7 up as I start school this week, but I will try to stay on top of it. Next chapter, the main push to get Lydia, and the aftermath of the escape attempt! Plus finally, some (very,very awkward) Scallison. Thanks for reading! As always ley me know what you think!


	7. The Retrieval

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The squad follows through on their mission

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for how long it took to get this update out there, I have been busy with school and this is such an important chapter. Anyway hope you enjoy!

 

“Aren’t you at least going to check if they survived?” Scott pleaded to Allison as they regrouped at the van. The others were warily keeping their distance.

“No time, can’t be tied to it. Consider that a warning. I told you the rules.”

Scott frowned, and checked to make sure the others still were not listening. “I can hear your heartbeat you know. You lied. You weren’t going to shoot me.”

“I just didn’t think it would come to -”

“And I know you could have made that shot. You just wanted Kira to do it so you don’t get your hands dirty.” He accused. “You want to act all ruthless but then make us do all the dirty work.”

     “I am the commander, I am the only thing keeping this team together!” At this point, Derek and Kira came over towards them, with Stiles following on still wobbly legs.

    Scott rebuked “How? By shrieking orders and putting us down?”

    “How else do you suggest I control six criminals!”

    “Treat them like people! We are people. Not a code name, not the info in some file, not prisoner numbers. Ask us. I mean, think about it! Derek and Malia would easily help take down Peter, maybe if you didn't treat her like an animal she wouldn't run like one!” Derek nodded slightly in agreement before Scott continued. “Kira would do anything for redemption, let her be helpful, instead of putting her down and ‘commanding’ her.” The other woman nodded. It was clear by her reddened eyes that she had been crying. “I’m just glad to be outside, I would gladly help if you didn't expect me to be some monster. Let Stiles do that! He’d be happy too. Way, way too happy.”

     “Having the time of my life, Scotty.” The madman said with a thumbs up.

     Scott concluded his lecture. “And Jackson… Well, Jackson may just be an asshole. But if this ‘team’ wasn’t so focused on hating you, we could keep him in line. But you don't let us do what we need to do. You don't know us.”

     “Oh, but you know me, is that it? You know what's best?” Allison countered in frustration. 

     “No, but I know you don't either. And you never will if you keep living a lie. You're not the ruthless leader so stop playing one. We are not toys in some game to impress your dad.”

     “You don’t get it, this is my only chance! I got this mission because no one else would take it. No one else would take you all! If i screw this up, I'm back to being the errand girl who only made it that far because of her family! This is my one shot to show them I can do what they couldn’t. I have to complete this mission. This mission is the only reason you aren't still in cells banging your heads against the wall.”

      “This mission may have gotten Malia and Jackson killed!” Kira added. 

      Scott took back control of the conversation, speaking gentler now. “But you never wanted to do this. The missions and command, that's obvious. Stop letting people make decisions for you and make one yourself. You have the bare the consequences for once.” 

      Allison took a deep breath. “I just wanted to help people.” 

     “Then stop thinking about ‘missions’ and ‘targets’ and think about this: there is someone in that building who needs your help, Artemis. Are you gonna help them. 

      “Allison. My name is Allison. And come on guys, how would you like to save someone?” She said with such relief in her voice that it sounded like an altogether new person. Scott, Derek, and Kira all gave a small cheer and prepared to take the building. Stiles gave a half-hearted shrug.

      “Eh, why not. Could get interesting.” He stepped forward on his now only slightly numb legs, and soon all five of them were in motion. Not long after they exited the parking lot however, a familiar voice called out.

“Guys! Wait, help!” They all turned back to see Jackson frantically limping towards them. Allison’s hand went to her holster on instinct, but Scott detected the slight motion and grabbed her hand gently, pulling it away from the weapon. Their eyes met, then both quickly looked down. Jackson was clearly hurt from the crash, and approached with urgency. “Malia is pinned by the car, I can’t get her out! Come help, please!” 

Allison drew cuffs and approached Jackson. “You both fled federal custody and attacked a teammate. You expect us to trust you? Agents will be here soon to escort you back to prison, they can get her out then. Consider yourself lucky you get to leave here breathing.”

Ingenuine fear registered on Jackson’s face. “Go back there? But…. but we didn’t flee! See, we were scared for our safety and leave the area to return once it was safe. I mean, we were just so surprised that a civilian death occurred while we were unsupervised. I just hope they won’t blame you for that when I tell them. I’m sure they’ll understand that you were rattled too and just overlooked helping Malia.” 

Allison grimaced at his manipulation, but remained unwavering. “We are not going back to help her. We have a mission.”

“I’ll help.” Derek grunted, to everyone’s surprise. As he walked to Jackson’s side, Allison shot him a glare. “Helping people, remember?” He said. She sighed, and followed after him, the others close behind.

A large portion of the wrecked car was perched precariously on Malia’s shoulder, while she lay barely conscious on the ground. Derek grabbed the wreckage and lifted it with ease, flipping it away from the battered woman. He helped her to her feet, carefully checking her shoulder for any break or dislocation. Through the haze of her confusion, she looked at him with great surprise. “Hale… helped me?” She muttered.

He responded with a firm nod. “Pack sticks together.” 

While they all stood together appreciating the true growth of the team, Jackson walked over to Stiles. “Hey man,” he began. “Just walked to say sorry about paralyzing you. We cool?”

In response, Stiles just began to laugh maniacally, leading Jackson to back away quietly. Allison seemed lost at the lack of control she faced, however she soon realized that they had not chosen Malia over her, but had chosen the team over whatever punishment she could give them. As Derek and Kira steadied Malia on her feet, Scott nudged Allison’s arm slightly, signaling her to seize the moment.

“Alright, you guys. Since we’re all here, together, what do you say we show them all what we’re capable of. I want to get our girl out of here, and if we pull this off, you all can get what you want too. Despite anything that’s happened up to now. What do you say?”

“How are we gonna get her out of there?” Kira asked, still apprehensive.

Allison prepared to explain the original plan again, then hesitated. It seemed foolish to think a plan conceived based solely on what a few files said, before anyone had even met these people who would be carrying it out. She decided to switch course. “You know your strengths. You tell me. What’s the best way to do this?” 

The others stood in shock at the trust she displayed. Slowly and steadily, Stiles raised his hand. “Can I bring my friends out to play?” He asked, his face hanging on her response.

She considered it for a moment, before looking the childlike maniac straight in the eyes. “Absolutely. Let’s do this.”

* * *

 

Fifteen minutes later, everybody was in position. Allison and Scott entered through the front door casually, with Stiles and Jackson strolling into the shabby lobby moments later, the latter discreetly leaving a sheen of toxin on the door handle behind them. Allison and Scott leafed through some pamphlets while Jackson charmed the receptionist, leaning on the desk to hide his hurt leg. As soon as she turned her back to fetch an info sheet he requested, he ran his hands over her keyboard and pen, leaving the paralytic agent there as well. Seconds after her fingers made contact with the keys, she began to tense up. “Go Zeus, now.” Scott whispered into his earpiece. 

From her place in the alley outside, Kira received the message and plunged her hands into the power junction attached to the building. Within seconds, the buzz of electricity quieted and came to a stop. The building went dark entirely, She didn’t stay to revel in the success however, quickly dashing away to get the van and drive it to the rendezvous zone.

The instant the lights went off in the lobby, a shrill alarm began to sound and the downed receptionist called for help. Allison drew her crossbow while Jackson pulled out a poison-coated blade. The sounds of footsteps running to apprehend them grew as swarms of fervent cultists descended on the room. Stiles stepped forward, directly into the center of the room, and outstretched his arm. The darkness of the room grew heavier and shadows peeled themselves from the walls, pulling blades from thin air. Gruesome faces marked them, as they all formed a ring around the four squad members. With a wave of Stiles’ hand, they all dissipated, only to reappear as the hordes of cultist entered, skewering them on their blades. Stiles laughed at the carnage around him, while Jackson and Scott stood stunned. Allison’s was marked with surprise too, though she remained busy firing at the armed members that the shadow warriors missed. 

“Those are your ‘friends’!” Jackson said in amazement. Stiles simply nodded. “Man, that is awesome!”

Stiles gave a slight shrug, looking mildly disappointed. “Yeah, they’re alright I guess. I tried to teach them the Thriller dance though and they just could not get the choreography.” 

While Jackson remained awestruck, Scott and Allison began to pass by the carnage to the main stairway. As they were wading through the battlefield of a lobby, Derek and Malia burst into the room to join the fight. Malia pounced from one downed combatant to another, finishing off those still crawling away, before joining Derek in pushing on towards the other side, joining up with Allison and Scott. 

“You two hold this floor. Don’t let anyone in or out.” Allison called down to Jackson and Stiles. Her group then began to ascend the staircase.

Approximately halfway to the top floor, five more rabid Sons of the Pack emerged from the floor above them. Allison quickly shot two down, Malia eviscerated one, and Derek ruthlessly threw one over the railing. That left one more, charging head on at Scott. For a split second he froze, terrified at the potential of harming another human being, but as the man drew close, he put his hands up in front of his face and swung his right fist out. He stopped seeing it as combat, and as a round in the ring, like at the boxing gym he practically grew up in. The sensation of skin hitting his actual knuckles instead of a glove gave him a moment’s hesitation, but he swung once more and found his opponent already dropping. Just like that, it was over and his teammates were looking to him to lead the final charge. He took a moment to admire Allison’s eyes, then found himself stepping forward and placing his lips on hers. His sense’s filled with the feel of her soft lips, her sweet scent, and every beautiful mark on her face. As he pulled away, she stared into his eyes with vivid passion.

“Dammit, we don’t have time for your little romance!” Derek said, grabbing both of them by the arm and pushing them onward. They soon reached the private office at the top floor.All leaned against the door, preparing to infiltrate the room. 

“Remember, target is to be extracted without harm. If it does not appear possible to extract target…” Allison said.

Scott questioned “What if it isn’t possible? What do we do?”

Allison remembered her instructions, but could not bring herself to act upon them now, no matter the necessity. “Then you make it possible.” She concluded. “Alright let’s go!” With a great shove, Derek broke the door of its hinges, and they all entered into a scene unlike anything they could have anticipated.

Instead of the imposing megalomaniac fired down upon them as expected, they were met by said megalomaniac lying facedown on the floor, covered with cuts fresh with blood. A large pool formed around his throat, which had been hacked open. A pen was imbedded in his back, seemingly occupying the role of murder weapon. 

A soft mutter came from the corner, where Lydia sat slumped against the wall, crying. Her clothes were ripped and her hair exploded around her head in a tangled, fiery halo. Blood coated her face as well, though the only visible wounds on her were a series of bruises up her arm. She rolled her head against the wall, muttering repeatedly “shut up shut up shut up.” Allison drew close and reached out to her.

“Dr. Martin, We’re here to help you. Would you come with me? The building should be secure now.”

Lydia appeared startled but took her hand. She spoke in a startled, airy voice. “I didn’t mean to. He grabbed me and talked and wouldn’t stop talking and he wouldn’t shut up. It was all I could hear. I still hear him, he won’t be quiet. Shut up Shut up SHUT UP!” She yelled violently. Allison wrapped an arm around her as the girl fell back into her sobs. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is far from over. I certainly hope to continue it at a reasonable speed, but it depends on how busy I am. Let me know what you think!


	8. The Memories

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some insight into the squads' backstories and the aftermath of Lydia's rescue.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey, Sorry its been awhile, been super busy with school. Thanks for those are you who have stuck with me. Hope you enjoy! Let me know what you think.

 

Lydia was out cold as soon as they got her into the transport van. Agents were swarming the site now, collecting the bodies and delivering an official story to the public. Allison slipped into the driver’s seat and they were off, leaving the imposing building behind them.

They arrived at a large compound a few hours later, most of them having fallen asleep on the trip. Lydia had not stirred the entire time, obviously exhausted. Allison waved a badge to some nearby guards, and they pulled into a garage that they opened. The men drew weapons and surrounded the car.

“Okay guys. Get out one at a time with hands up. Leave all weapons in the car and cooperate. These men are going to escort you to a holding area. Someone will be in to debrief you on your compensation eventually.” One of the guards opened the doors, and starting with Kira they began to exit. Scott looked back to Allison before exiting, “Don’t worry, I’ll see you guys soon.” She gripped his hand and held it for a moment. He smiled and followed the others out.

The guards marched them to a large room, bare of all but a table and chairs - mounted into the floor - and some water bottles. They made themselves as comfortable as possible… except Malia, who insisted on pacing the length of the room.

“Do you think she’s okay?” Kira asked.

Derek rolled his eyes. “She’s fine. Probably mad she didn’t get to shred Peter.” He didn’t say it, but Derek was upset for the same reason.

“Oh, I didn’t mean her.” Kira said, shaking her head.

“Well I’m sure Allison will be fine. She’s just got to go deal with her bosses then she is gonna come see us. She won’t rat us out.” Scott said reassuringly.

“Bullshit.” Jackson muttered.

“Guys!” Kira said in exacerbation. “I mean that scientist! Lydia. She looked terrible.”

They all fell silent for a moment, before Stiles finally cut in. “I like her. She’s got a fire in her. From her toes all the way to her hair.”

Scott disregarded him, and addressed Kira. “Yeah, it did look like Peter did a number on her.”

Stiles chimed in, “Well, the guy was crazy. And once you go crazy you never go back!”

“He was not crazy!” Derek erupted. They all looked at him as he rose from his chair. He composed himself and slowly sat back down, slipping deep into thought.

* * *

 

_“It’s not crazy.” He chimed from the bed. Paige shot him a look in the mirror as she brushed his teeth. “Ok, well no crazier than any of the other meetings.”_

_She spat, and turned back to him. “I don’t know Derek, I mean, magic trees? I didn’t think that’s what this was about?”_

_“It’s not magic.” He laughed as she crawled into bed. “It’s no different than any of those herbs or crystals people use. Peter is always talking about the supernatural power of the universe at the meetings, he says these trees attract and capture that power. It’s like a magnet. He thinks it could help you. When has he been wrong?”_

_Paige sighed. Peter could come on strong sometimes, but he did always know how to make her feel better when the headaches got worse. She did trust him, and believed that she was receiving the gift he spoke of, the one given to true believers. Her doctor had called the gift brain cancer, but Peter insisted that was just the form her gift had taken as it adjusted to her body. Over the last two months she and Derek had been following Peter’s instructions to hasten its acclimation to her body. Once her gift fully bonded with her, she would be healthier than ever. She just wished the process wasn’t so painful, or that Derek could receive his already. But Peter says they must always be patient._

_“Alright, I’ll try it.” She said, earning a grin from Derek. She kissed him quick, then fell into sleep._

_Next morning Derek had met Peter in the woods to prepare for that night. “Is this the tree?” He asked._

_Peter nodded solemnly. “Its called a Nemeton… Derek, I have some bad news. It’s about Paige.”_

_Derek drew up in concern. “What is it?”_

_Peter put a hand on his nephew’s shoulder. “I’m afraid she can not receive the gift.”_

_Derek shook his head in confusion. “But she already is. Once the tumor is accepted by her body -”_

_“It won’t be. It will poison her mind and body, and ultimately it will destroy her. She is not strong enough.”_

_Derek grew angry. “You said she would have it! You said this stupid tree would help, maybe we can…”_

_“No, Derek. It is too late for her. I brought you here so that you could receive the gift. Paige may be too weak, but you are not. You can remove her sickness, make it your strength. The Nemeton can make this happen. You can take away her pain.”_

_Tears rolled down Derek’s eyes. “What do I need to do?”_

* * *

 

He had brought Paige there that night, and as he thrust the ceremonial blade into her, she had looked at him with such betrayal, such hate. But as her blood touched the bark, he had felt himself grow stronger. He held her as she passed. She had always been his strength, and now she always would. He hadn’t hated Peter until the cops came, but even then he could not blame his uncle. He was right, always had been.

“He was crazy.” Malia growled. “And now he’s dead. It’s a shame… I wanted him to see exactly what I’ve become.”

* * *

 

_“One day, you are going to be great Malia. Remember that.” He said, patting her head. She laughed and hugged his legs. Her mother came over and began to talk with him._

_“Really Mr. Hale, you’ve been too good to us. I’m going to pay you back someday, I swear.”_

_“For the last time, call me Peter. And that won’t be necessary. As I said I’m happy to support such a special girl. It breaks my heart to think of all she’ll have to face.” Malia dropped her eyes to the ground. Things hadn’t been easy with her deformity, and she may have only been six but she knew they would not get easier. “Well, I should be going. I’ll drop by next month. Don’t worry about the rent, just focus on keeping yourselves fed. I’ll take care of the rest.”_

_“I can’t thank you enough!” Her mother said._

_He turned back as he was leaving. “Pack sticks together.”_

_Once he was gone, Malia laughed. “Mr. Hale is funny!”_

_Her mom stroked her hair and chuckled. “He certainly is a bit of a kook. But he is a godsend.”_

_That night, Malia awoke to the sound of her mother crying. She crept to her door and peeked out. To her surprise, Mr. Hale had come back.  She listened carefully as her mother spoke through her tears._

_“You can’t just take her, Peter! She’s my daughter, I won’t let you!” She stood to block off the hallway to Malia’s room; Peter stepped closer._

_“She is special. The first of many to reach a higher form. She’ll be better off this way, she belongs with us!”_

_“No! Get out, get out or I’ll scream. I’ll call the cops!”_

_“Be reasonable.” He drew closer, and she launched herself at him. With incredible speed, he produced a small blade and swung out, piercing her throat._

_Malia watched her mother slump to the ground, and froze. Her first instinct was to scream, but recognizing the danger of being heard, she bit down on her lip. Her teeth stabbed into the flesh, filling her mouth with blood as tears rolled from her eyes. She turned back into her room, flying to the window and leaping out into the cold air. She ran off into the night, never looking back. But she never forgot._

* * *

 

“Crazy or not, people like him are always bad news.” Kira said resolutely.

“Oh you know a lot about bad people, huh Little Miss Mao?” Jackson scoffed.

Kira shrunk back into her seat. “More than you’d think.”

* * *

 

_“Kira! Hurry up and do it!”_

_Kira looked back and saw that she was still standing there. Noshiko’s presence loomed over her as she gripped the wires. She was nervous, and praying that it did not show. “I don’t know. This seems like it won’t do much. They’ll just get it back up in a day or so.”_

_The stern eyes of her mentor glared. “It’s not about the action, it’s the message it sends. All their flashy electric billboards peddling that false consumerist life will fall dark. The stores they worship merchandise at will be forced to close for the day. Stopping the damned quest for profit. We will show them that their way of life is not immune to righteous interference. Kira, only you can do this.”_

_Feeling a wave of pride over take her, and summoning her inner courage, Kira sent a massive wave of energy down the wires. The transformers surrounding them exploded in  shower of sparks._

_A man’s voice unexpectedly broke her concentration.“What the hell are you doing!” She turned and saw a maintenance worker rushing into the room. Noshiko ran towards him with no hesitation. She slipped a small pocket knife from her pocket and rammed it between his ribs. Kira gasped as the man fell and bleed._

_“Why would you do that!” She yelled, trembling._

_Noshiko corrected her posture and placed a hand on her shoulder, looking into her eyes. “No revolution can succeed without casualties.”_

_“But you said no one would be here, you said no one would be hurt!”_

_The older woman smirked slightly. “No revolution can succeed without a few lies either. And certainly not without…” She stroked the crying girl’s cheek as she spoke, “some necessary pain and sacrifice.” Her soft stroke turned quickly into a  forceful shove, pushing Kira’s head violently against a nearby metal post. Kira fell to the ground in an unconscious heap, her hands still clutching the wires._

_When she awoke the police were already entering the building and Noshiko was nowhere to be seen. She admitted what had happened to the officers, who placed her in handcuffs and hauled her off. She was facing a hefty penalty, now left defenseless._

* * *

 

Kira had been thinking about that maintenance employee all night, ever since she had witnessed Stiles’ attack on the guard. She was still repulsed by the energetic madman, who now sat at a table nearby, desperately attempting to flip his empty water bottle. Another outburst from Jackson pulled her from her observation.

“Oh, whatever. You probably had some schoolyard bully and now you think you know the true face of evil or some shit like that. I’m talking about the truly nasty people out there.” He sneered.

“You killed your family, man! It doesn’t get much worse than that.” Scott accused.

“They were NOT my family!” Jackson erupted, before calming himself once more. “Now, they were some really bad people.” He hissed.

* * *

 

_He hated them from the day he was put there. They weren’t the normal foster-care abusers. They didn’t take him in for some extra money or someone to boss around. And of course, he could never actually get a caring couple who wanted to help. No, the Whittemores wanted a centerpiece. Something to tie together their nice mansion, successful business, and refined personalities. They needed philanthropy, without the messy empathy or actual compassion. A troubled orphan boy to be the ultimate sign of “look-at-what-a-superior-person-I-am.” They started using their last name for him too. Soon all their rich, phony friends were always talking about “the Whittemore boy” like he was grouped with them by more than a common roof. The only time either of them would even speak to him was to tell him to dress for one of their parties, where more rich frauds would come to ogle him and praise such a display of charity. It made him sick._

_He wasn’t their only boast; Mr. Whittemore spoke frequently of the pro bono cases he had taken for poor, underprivileged women fighting the system. One day, while wandering the house aimlessly, Jackson stumbled onto one of his meetings with one of these “pro bono” clients. Although to him, it certainly seemed as though Whittemore was charging a different type of fee. One his “client” did not seem to be paying willfully. He turned and left before either could see him, shaken by the whole ordeal._

_The image of the abuse stayed in his mind most of the day, until he finally found himself retreated to the wine cellar just to be alone. Much to his surprise however, Mrs. Whittemore appeared to have made herself particularly comfortable down there. She was already on a second bottle when he found her. She stiffened in surprise to seeing him. “Oh, sorry! I came down here to - to sit and read for while.Charles is having a meeting upstairs, so I-”_

_“I know. I saw.”_

_She took another sip, straight from the bottle. She was already slightly swaying. “Oh. Well don’t act all offended. Just the way the world works.”_

_“Then I don’t like the world.”_

_She laughed. “No one does.”_

_“And I don’t like you.”_

_She shrugged. “Me either.” She rose up, staggering, and pushed a fresh bottle of champagne to him. “We’re having a party tonight. Go put this on ice. I’ve got to make sure Charles’ client leaves.”_

_He stared at her astonished. “It’s wrong, what he’s doing. You know that.”_

_“Who cares?” She raised her eyebrows. “Oh don’t be so sensitive. Your father was probably no better. That’s probably why you’re here. That’s how things are with those people. You can either sink to their level,” She paused to take a large swallow of wine, “or you can swim with us.” She climbed up the stairs, leaving Jackson alone in the dark, holding the bottle._

_The party was a hit. The guests all laughed together, dinner was superb, and everyone commented on how moved they were by the Whittemores’ compassion. Jackson watched from a corner, unnoticed by the guests, drunk on their own excess. After dinner, the champagne was poured and all enjoyed a glass. Not long after they’d begun sipping however, all the guests fell to the floor, utterly paralyzed. And one by one, Jackson dragged them each to the pool to test if they would sink… or swim. The results did not surprise him._

* * *

 

“Don’t act all high and mighty. Remember you’re here with us too.” Jackson told Scott. “You’re a criminal.”

Scott flinched at the harsh word, and hung his head.

* * *

 

_“Scott, where did this money come from!” Melissa yelled, shaking the bag in front of him._

_“Mom, it doesn’t matter! You can pay the bills now. I can pay for school! You can take less shifts at the hospital, I won’t have to help out at the gym as much, we-”_

_She slapped her forehead in disbelief. “Of course it matters! Are you selling drugs? Answer me!”_

_“No mom, I wouldn’t do that! I just… we needed money! And they have plenty, so- so I took it from-”_

_“Nevermind, I don’t want to know!” Melissa said, furiously shaking her head. “Just take it back. Wherever it came from, take it back!” She threw the bag at him in frustration and turned away, crying._

_“I can’t just return it! I- I did this to help you. We can-” Scott stopped, listening carefully. Beyond his mom’s crying, beyond his beating heart, he heard the sound of footsteps on the pathway to the front door. From the sound of their tread he figured two men, both slightly above average height and weight, wearing formal loafers. He could smell cigarette smoke and hair gel around them. He instantly assumed the worst. Detectives. The doorbell rang right after that._

_“Mom, I’ll get the door. I need you to go in your room and stay there. Please.”_

_“Don’t be ridiculous, Scott.” She turned and began walking to the door. “Is this about the money?”_

_“Mom, I just don’t want you to see this!” He stayed one step behind her. She reached the door and pulled it open, exposing both of them to the two men._

_The first man stepped forward. “Scott McCall?” Scott just nodded, giving his mother one last mournful look. “You’re under arrest for burglary and grand larceny. You have the right to remain silent-” He continued on as the cuffs were clasped onto his wrists. Melissa put her hand to her mouth and allowed tears to roll freely down her cheeks as she watched her son be taken away._

* * *

 

Allison walked hurriedly down the long hallway to the room in which they had placed Lydia. Camera’s showed she had just woken up and Allison had requested to personally collect her statement. She approached the glass barrier that separated Lydia’s room from the main hallway.

“Why am I in a cell?” The redheaded woman asked as Allison stopped in front of the clear wall.

“Sorry, but it is standard procedure for whenever a subject is brought back from a hostile environment. It’s more for your protection than anything else. Once a psych evaluation is completed, you’ll be let out.”

Lydia stepped forward frowning and allowed her hand to run along the smooth glass. “A psych eval? I’m not exactly confident in my mental state given what has happened.”

“Of course Miss Martin-”

“Dr. Martin” She corrected.

“Of course Dr. Martin. We realize you’ve been through an awful lot and we want to help you get through this. There’s just a few questions I need you to answer right now.”

Lydia nodded in response.

“Alright. First of all, how did the whereabouts of your convey get leaked? Did you notice any of your guards perhaps cooperating with Hale?”

“No. Not at all. They were all completely surprised.”

“Peter Hale was dead when we arrived at the site. Did you kill him?”

She looked down slightly. “I had to.”

Allison nodded in sympathy. “I understand. You said you still heard him. What did you mean by that?”

“I still hear all of them. The people from the building, their voices, rattling around in my head.” She frowned.”

Allison scribbled down some notes quickly. “What did Mr. Hale want with you and your research, Dr. Martin?”

“Nothing.”

“If you don’t mind me asking, why would he take you prisoner if he didn’t want anything?”

Lydia knitted her eyebrows together. “Peter? Take me prisoner? No, no. You have it all wrong.”

“What- What do you mean all wrong?” Allison asked.

“I mean, you have it the wrong way around.” Lydia stepped closer to the barrier separating them.

“I- I don’t understand.”

“I wasn’t Peter’s prisoner.” She was practically pressed against the glass now. “He was mine.” She smirked.

“Then why… what did we…” Allison fumbled for words.

“You saved the wrong person.” Lydia said, pressing both hands onto the glass, laughing. Within seconds, her laugh grew in pitch. Soon, it was not a laugh but a monstrous scream she was emitting. Cracks formed in the glass and Allison’s hands shot up to cover her ears. Then it all came crashing down.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Plot Twist! Hope you enjoyed the backstory snippets too. I will have more detailed segments of backstory for Stiles, Allison, and Lydia later if you were wondering why they weren't included here. Keep a watch out for the next chapter


	9. The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison confronts the reality of the situation.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So I know its been forever since I updated and I apologize. School has been kicking my ass and honestly I just had to put this on the backburner. But the continued interest and nice comments I've received convinced me to continue it. Sorry for this being so short but I just wanted to get it out there. I promise more coming really soon.

Scott’s hands instantly flew to his ears to protect them from the shrill shriek that radiated through the walls and into the small room. The others all followed suit and looked around in confusion, trying to locate the source of the explosive yelling. As soon as the awful noise ended, a blaring alarm replaced it and red light flashed into the small room. 

“What’s going on?” Kira said in a panic.

“Whatever it is, I don’t feel like sitting here waiting to find out.” Derek declared as he began to move towards the door. Just before he reached the knob, Allison’s father burst through into the room, gun drawn.

“All of you, get back against the wall!” He barked, pointing his gun in their direction.

Stiles was the first to obey, all the while shouting “I didn’t do it! I was framed! I’ve been brainwashed this whole time! It was my evil twin! It was me or them! Generic villain excuse #6!” 

Once Scott’s ears finally ceased ringing, he made his way against the wall. “What’s happening? Where is Allison?” 

Mr. Argent glared at him with disdain before addressing them. “There’s been a breach in security. You all need to come with me. Now!” Two more armed guards entered the room and forced them into a line, moving them out the door and into the hall.

* * *

Allison awoke face down on the cold floor surrounded by broken glass. Still disoriented, she slowly brought her hand to her ear, which dripped a steady flow of blood. She rose to her feet, suddenly aware of the sirens whose cacophony filled the corridor. The wall that had separated the cell from the hallway was now lying in shards upon the floor, and the small room was empty. A close inspection of her earpiece revealed that its speaker had blown instantly from the sonic attack.

_ How did she do that?  _ Allison pondered,  _ and more importantly, where did she go? _ The possibility of a hostile being loose in the facility did not reflect well on her record as an agent. Fighting back her insecurity, she cast her eyes upon the floor and was surprised to see a small shard of glass stained red some distance from where she had been lying. She ventured over to examine it, and found a slight trail of blood leading away from it and down the hall.  _ Gotcha now, Lydia,  _ she mentally boasted.

The trail was shorter than she had anticipated, leading into the records room just a few turns along the labyrinthine halls. The room was usually under heavy security, due to the classified nature of the documents within, but Allison found it unguarded, the keypad used to enter the code dismantled entirely. She quietly slipped through the door, and saw the redheaded scientist leaned over a file intently.

“Dr. Martin, turn around slowly. Do not move a muscle!” She said drawing her weapon.

“Do you want me to turn, or to not move? Which is it?” Lydia responded coyly.

“Turn around!” 

The scientist turned to face Allison, a stack of files clutched to her chest. Her body stood with magnificent fortitude, but her eyes betrayed a skittish paranoia. “I’m sorry. This was not meant to happen this way.” 

“Then how was it suppose to go?” Allison said, her eyes remaining fixed on her target.

“Well, in a perfect world, the convoy is ambushed, I run off to get what I need from Hale, I fake my death, and - well, I won’t spoil the ending. But no. It’s funny, you let a megalomaniac like Hale think he has the upper hand for one second and he sends a picture to you. And of course, you all have to storm in and save the day. So I’ll play the damsel. But let's be honest, we both know that was never my role.”

“So the ambush wasn’t Hale?”

Lydia scoffed. “No. It was all me.”

“Who helped you?”

“Thats not relevant.”

Allison took one step forward. “Alright Dr. Martin. That’s all very impressive. But I need you to drop those files and come with me.”

“Oh these aren’t for me!” Lydia said in mock surprise, then threw them down at Allison’s feet. “They’re for you. All your little teammates full, classified files. I think you may find the mission status updates very interesting.”

Allison looked down at the files for a brief second, then stooped to pick them up, never losing sight of Lydia. She felt compelled to browse them immediately, given how often she had previously been denied access, but knew that was what Lydia wanted. Sensing this, the other girl spoke up:

“Oh, I’m not going anywhere. Go ahead, look. That’s the only reason I busted out instead of playing all weak and victimized a little longer. To get you those.”

Still keeping one eye on Lydia, Allison gave into her temptation and flipped to the first file’s mission status information. She read along carefully:

**Hale, Derek:** Mission successful and target recovered. Subsequent post-mission 

action: Termination ASAP.

She read over it one more time, not believing what it said. Termination. No mention of compensation, of clemency, just termination. They were going to execute him. She flipped through all the rest and was met with her worse fears.

**Yukimura, Kira:** Termination.

**Whittemore, Jackson:** Termination.

**Tate, Malia:** Termination

**Stilinski:** Termination

Her heart sank as she reached the last file.

**McCall, Scott:** Termination.

“This isn’t true. You altered this!” Allison accused her adversary.

Lydia shook her head in denial. “Check the signatures.”

Allison looked back down at the file in her hands to see who had signed off on what was clearly a terrible oversight. To her shock and dismay, the scribbles in the bottom corner were all too familiar

“Dad…” She said heartbroken.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, hope you enjoyed!


	10. The Escape

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Allison must make a choice as the team faces a harsh reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it has been so long, but a very sincere thank you to everyone who read and enjoyed the story, especially those who commented - it really motivated me to continue. Hope you enjoy this chapter as well!

Lydia remained on the other side of the room, but had begun leisurely pacing as she continued her one-sided conversation with Allison.

“Look, you’re obviously upset so I’ll be brief. I don’t want to hurt you, Allison. Honestly. In fact, I would like it very much if no one else got hurt from this point forward. Surely we can agree on that? So, you have two options: one irrational, one rational. The irrational would be to continue this standoff and attempt to recapture me. I’d fight, you’d fight, and in the end we would both be exhausted and rather disheveled, and no matter what outcome, the main problem here remains unsolved. The rational choice, however, is that you turn around and find your team before they can be executed, secure some guarantee of their safety and demand a full explain while I flee with just a few documents, and no one gets hurt in any foolishly heroic acts. I know my preference, but this is your choice Allison.”

Allison fought the urge to give in, to turn and run. She had to fulfill her duty, even if it meant making sacrifices. She could not allow a dangerous metahuman to escape with confidential government documents. But no matter how many times she told herself that, it still never felt like the right thing. Although she hated to admit it, she had allowed a criminal to get inside her head. 

“I understand if you don’t trust me.” Lydia said, remaining calm and collected. “But you have to understand, I’m not some terrorist or warmonger. I have no genocidal or diabolic masterplan. Hell, I took out Peter Hale, perhaps the largest domestic threat in the country, though I won’t pretend it was for selfless reasons. I’m just a scientist with very limited resources driven to some, admittedly, extreme actions. I can tell you with complete certainty that not I, nor anyone I have cooperated with, is seeking to harm any other person using this information. Can you honestly say the same for your organization?” 

Allison froze for one moment, weighing the words of her rival. “Why all this? What did you need from Hale so bad you’d risk your own safety like that?” 

“Lets just call it peace of mind… the clock is ticking, Allison.”

* * *

 

Derek followed behind the armed guards, flanked from behind by more soldiers. “I don’t like the look of this.” He muttered to Jackson.

“No talking!” One of the guards bellowed, shoving them forward. They had reached a new room, barren of furnishing, and one by one they were ushered in. “Up against the wall.”

Once they had complied, Mr. Argent turned to his men. “You two, come with me to secure the facility. You six… ensure the assets don’t become compromised.” After being met with a chorus of ‘yes, sirs,’ he and his entourage marched out from the room, leaving the six criminals in the company of six soldiers. From their place against the wall, the team was unaware of the weapons being drawn by their firing squad. 

“ _ Scott!”  _ The youngest among them perked up as he heard the urgent whisper. “ _ On five, get everyone down and close your eyes. 1… 2… 3… 4…” _

“Everyone down!” Scott shouted, throwing himself down and shielding the two closest to him, Stiles and Kira. He squeezed his eyes shut and threw his hands over his ears. A split-second later, a flash grenade clattered to the ground and detonated, blinding the guards. In the ensuing chaos, Allison ran in, knocking the dazed men down with one solid blow to the head each. 

“Get up, we have to go!” She yelled, gathering up her six teammates.

Derek observed the mens' guns still clutched in their unconscious arms. “They were going to kill us!” 

Allison pushed him along, wasting no time in getting them moving. “Which is why we have to leave, now! I know a way out.” 

“Like I would ever trust you! I’m getting out on my own, and don’t try to stop me. Anyone else who wants out, follow me!” Derek said, storming past her.

“Fine, go! But good luck getting by the guards without me.” She called back, but he just kept going.

“Yeahhh, I’m gonna take my chances with tall, dark, and gloomy.” Stiles said, sliding by and chasing after Derek. The remaining four remained with Allison. 

“Their loss.” She said. “Okay, now let’s get out of here!”

* * *

 

Derek could not hide his annoyance that the nutcase was the only one who came with him, but he supposed the powerful pscyho could be useful if the guards surrounded them. So far though, the halls had been remarkably empty. The main obstacle was the complete lack of directions, as they had been wandering aimlessly for far too long. As they rounded the next corner however, Stiles found himself face-to-face with the barrel of Chris Argent’s gun.

“You have ten seconds to stand down or I will shoot.” He spoke calmly, despite the fact that he was unaccompanied.

“There’s two of us and one of you, I could take you out now.” Derek said.

“But you won’t. You’re not totally depraved like Stilinski here. You rush me, and I still kill your teammate. And you won’t let that happen. Pack sticks together, right Derek?”

As Derek seethed with rage at his bluff being called. Stiles began to run his mouth. “You know, I never liked guns. There’s no show with them. Bombs make a show, it’s really quite enjoyable. And of course, you can’t make someone suffer with a gun. Not like with something like….. Oh, I don’t know. A knife?”

At that moment Derek caught on, remembering the knife Stiles had used to kill the policeman, which was still in his pocket. Picking up on Stiles’ signal, without a moment of hesitation, he drew the knife and threw it straight at Argent’s hand. The blade sliced along the  tender flesh of his wrist, and on instinct Chris dropped the gun and gripped his bleeding wrist. Stile laughed, and seconds later a shadow rose of Argent, as one of Stiles’ “friends” appeared. The figure drew a blade and struck, impaling his victim. Chris sank to the floor, bleeding out.

“Now how the hell do we get out of here?” Derek said in frustration as he watched the dying man shudder.

“You boys need a ride?” They both whipped around to see Dr. Martin nonchalantly gazing at the body of the man behind her rescue. She looked at this and raised an eyebrow in a questioning fashion. Stiles and Derek shared a look, then each shrugged. They followed the redhead, and were soon on their way to somewhere far from their imprisonment. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed! No guarantees about when I'll be able to update but this story isn't over yet.


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